Storms
by lalalei
Summary: When a ferocious storm hits Tangleland, Duchess Ravenwaves contemplates her past, the present, and the one thing she and Lady Lovelylocks have in common.


Tangleland wasn't the easiest place to live in on a good day, but the land was at its worst during storms. The already cold, foreboding ground grew even harsher, and the thorny, matted trees and twisted, knotted brambles swayed dangerously in the wind, daring any traveler to come closer.

Duchess Ravenwaves gave an imperious frown at the bad weather, as if willing it to stop, but as the thunder, rain, and lightning continued she lost all patience. She turned to Hairball and the Comb Gnomes. "Well, don't just stand there," she commanded. "Do something about this awful racket!"

"I'm awful sorry, Duchess," Hairball said with a throaty wheeze, "but you know what happened the _last_ time I tried to control the weather. We'll probably have to wait for the storm to pass over!"

"That's right," the duchess sneered, leaning down to look him in the eyes. "Let me see if I remember correctly, Hairball. You accidentally created an earthquake, tried to calm it with Shining Glory's crystal ball, and—what was it? _You_ tried to overthrow _me_."

With a disgusted air, Ravenwaves picked Hairball up and tossed him away, turning to Snags, Tanglet and Dulla. "How about you? And don't give me that 'I'm so sorry but the Pixietails are stronger, Duchess!' You must have a, I don't know, a silencing spell about you."

To that Tanglet gave a raucous laugh, while Dulla tried to, unsuccessfully, smooth things over by clamping her mouth shut. Snags faced Ravenwaves and was about to speak, only to be drowned out by a clap of thunder, louder than any before.

"Ugh," Ravenwaves shouted, covering her hands with her ears. "Nevermind! You're useless—all of you! Hairball, go attend to Titan and Messmutt. Comb Gnomes, I want you to make sure my enchanted spyglass isn't damaged from the wind. Now go!"

Her helpers scattered, eager to avoid her wrath, and Duchess Ravenwaves was left alone with a storm for company. The howling wind and rain battered at her hair, clothes, and face, but Ravenwaves was too proud to go inside and let a small thing like the weather defeat her. She had her priorities straight—once the storm passed, they'd get right to work on a new plan to take over Lady Lovelylocks' kingdom, and _this_ time they'd succeed.

Mother wouldn't expect anything less, she thought. After all, taking over the kingdom was what her mother had been trying when her spell, too strong to control, swept everyone but Lady away—king, queen, servants, guests, and Grand Duchess Ravenhair herself.

At times Ravenwaves wished her mother was still around, even if, now, it was only so they could take Lady's kingdom together. She wished that her memories amounted to more than the feel of warm hands, fleeting glances, and the scent of magic in the air. If mother were around, things would be—not _nice_ , exactly; Tangleland was never nice on its best days. But more bearable, she supposed. Certainly mother would comfort her in the worst storms, when the weather made it too dangerous to venture outside their tower. (Ravenwaves idly wondered if the Looking Room protected against storms, and made a note to test it out once she conquered the Land of Lovelylocks.)

Her father was an even vaguer story, bits and pieces cobbled together from what her nanny had told her before she passed away, mixed with what little Hairball knew, and the most abundant sources were simple myths and legends. There were rumors he'd been in debt to a witch, while others said her mother had killed him to cement her power after Ravenwaves was born, and still another speculated her father was Shining Glory, the blind wizard who so often aided Lady against her schemes; Hairball had studied under Shining Glory before betraying him, so _that_ option, at least, was out. For Ravenwaves' part, she had fuzzy memories that could have come from anywhere, and no defined picture of what he might have looked like.

Deep down, she wondered what Lady Lovelylocks' memories of her parents were, being even younger than she at the time they disappeared. She wondered if her rival, her enemy, had known a mother's touch, a father's love.

At times like this, Ravenwaves wasn't sure which of them was truly luckier.

At times like this, she almost pitied Lady.

At times like this, she almost hated her mother for not listening to Hairball when he warned that her magic would backfire. For all his faults, the curmudgeonly little troll did know his way around magic.

It would be so much easier to bear, she thought, if she had someone to confide in, someone to trust, if not someone her own age. The Comb Gnomes were unreliable and only Snags could hold a decent conversation, and Hairball was known for his deceit almost as much as his magic. Messmutt and Titan were animals, and while they could help, it wasn't enough for Ravenwaves. Nothing but the capture and complete surrender of Lady's kingdom, that shining beacon of light, would be good enough for her.

And in the meantime, she'd settle for her vague memories of mother and what scant information she could find about her father. It was better than what Lady had, or so she assumed, and anything she had that was better than her counted as a victory.

Ravenwaves refused to dwell on the fact that after her parents disappeared, Lady had been adopted by a kind, loving couple, met Maidens Fairhair and Curlycrown, and enjoyed many years of friendship with them, the villagers of Prettydale, and other inhabitants of the land.

A long-dead nanny, a troll, a horse and dog, and mischievous imps were good enough company for the duchess.

Really, they were.

And if they weren't, if sometimes she wanted to learn firsthand what Lady and her friends shared—well, she just _wouldn't_. Ravenwaves was nothing if not stubborn and set in her ways.

The storm eventually passed, as all storms did—save the storm forever roiling in Duchess Ravenwaves' heart.


End file.
